Nothing, save the ash on your mantle
by if-llamas-could-fly
Summary: Fallen humans find their refuge in angels. It's only fair then, that fallen angels find their refuge in humans. 'Perhaps it was another idiosyncrasy of humanity. There seemed to be a lot of those.'
1. Chapter 1

**A/N So, a couple of months ago, I did a post-****_Sacrifice_**** outsider!POV collab project with ****_The Resurrectionist_****, who happens to be one of the most ****_amazing_**** people to collab with. Anyway, in one of the chapters, I introduced these characters who turned out to be ridiculously fun to write, and I've been slowly working out a story for them. I'm trying to keep this as much within canon as possible. Just, y'know, with my own characters. For anyone who's already read the collab story, this first chapter's just a re-upload of what I posted there, but I suggest you read it again anyway. It has been MAJORLY edited, and is a ****_very_**** long WIP.**

**This is dedicated to ****_Vendelareader_**** for inspiring me to actually continue this. Enjoy! :) **_~Sammy_

* * *

**_Nothing, save the ash on your mantle_**

_Chapter One_

I shifted on the barstool, trying to get more comfortable, because I was pretty sure that with the way things were going, I was going to have to keep my ass parked there for a couple of hours. Jackie was tipping back shots every three seconds, and she was already halfway down the lane to totally wasted. As her bridesmaid, it was my responsibility to make sure she didn't get alcohol poisoning, but I let her drink herself to oblivion anyway. Being left standing at the alter by an asshole who ran off with some wannabe-actress tended to leave people feeling like shit, so I supposed that drowning oneself in alcohol was an acceptable coping mechanism.

I picked at the bowl of pretzels in front of me, and pulled a drag from the newest sweating bottle of beer in front of me. After about seven minutes of tracing out patterns in the wood-grain of the bar-table, I glanced up at the muted television. A stuck-up looking news-anchor seemed to be talking about something in a tone that could not have been anything but two shades more than disinterested, considering the way she was perched way too stiffly on her chair. The headlines flashing across the screen were the same they had been all week. All anybody had been talking about for the past five days was the crazy star show that had lit up the skies, as stars apparently crashed into the earth.

_Yeah, right._

I scoffed at the news report, and the blonde bartender looked over at me, still wiping down the rough tabletop. He glanced up at the television, then back at my disbelieving expression, and he reached up and switched the channel to some basketball game, earning quite a few whoops of approval from the drunk group of men standing over at one of the pool tables. The bartender took away my empty bottles and put a new one in front of me, the top popping off with a hiss. He grinned at me. "On the house."

I raised the bottle at him in a salute before taking a sip. "Thanks."

His smile turned knowing. "You looked like you needed it."

I nodded, and he leaned forward, propping himself up with one arm, the other still clutching a dishrag. "So, I'm going to assume that you don't really put much faith in the whole 'the sky is falling' thing?"

I shook my head and chuckled, albeit coming off rather tipsy. I _really_ couldn't hold my alcohol. "Naw, I think it's just complete bull. I mean, seriously, who'd believe that the stars are actually crashing into the ground? It's ridiculous."

The bartender raised an eyebrow at me. "So, what, you think that there's a reasonable explanation for it?"

I was pretty sure that my expression was conveying my thoughts of '_duh_' in so many ways that my eyebrows were curling into weird hairy squiggly lines of exasperation. "Look here... uh..."

"Jason. The name's Jason."

"Well then, _Jason_, listen up. _Everything_'s got a reasonable explanation. This whole star-falling crap isn't any different. It's probably just some freak meteor shower or something, nothing more."

Jason looked thoughtful for a few moments before shrugging. "I guess that that makes sense. You're probably the first logical drunk person I've gotten here, y'know, who _hasn't_ been yammering on about angels falling from the skies."

I scoffed. "_Angels_? Really? _That's_ what everybody thinks they are? Damn, and I thought that _I_ had issues."

Jason laughed then, I thought it sounded a bit off, but I'd learned long ago to give up on my alcohol soaked brain's insane attempt at intuition, because it was _literally_ the most embarrassing _ever, _actually,how many times I'd been wrong about someone while wasted. I looked around for one quick moment to see Jackie pressed up against some random dude, who was, by the way, _seriously hot_, her tongue rammed down his throat. And, okay, maybe my judgment wasn't at its best, what with the alcohol muddling my brain, and the attractive bartender Jason in front of me, but I just let her make out with Hot Dude, because honestly, she needed some cheering up. Anyway, it wasn't like I was gonna let her go home with him. I may have been drunk, but I wasn't an idiot.

Jason rapped his knuckles on the wood of the bar, and when I turned back to him, his expression was serious again. In my drunken haze, it would've been funny, what with the little crease in between his eyebrows, and his gray eyes all business-like, but somehow I managed to keep myself from giggling like an idiot. His lips were moving, and I struggled to keep up with what he was saying. "So, you really aren't even going to _consider_ the possibility that the angel-theory is right?"

I shrugged, and straightened up. (When did I start sagging over the table?) "I don't really even _believe_ in angels. I used to, when I was a kid. I'd pray every night y'know. I prayed for all those people who had less than me, who were worse off. I prayed for all the people who needed saving. I never prayed for myself. Didn't think I needed to. And then, the _one time_ I asked for something, nothing happened. I just prayed that my mom make it out of the hospital okay, that was it, but..."

I trailed off, and Jason somewhat awkwardly patted my shoulder, even as I brushed away the few tears that had collected in my eyes after slipping past my too-drunk-to-care emotional barriers. I sighed. "Anyway, I stopped praying after that. I didn't believe anymore. So, no, I don't think that it was angels. But if it _was_ angels that were falling, then I'm glad. They deserve it, don't they?"

Jason was silent for a few moments, staring at the bottle cap he was twirling around in his fingers. I thought, for a minute, that he was mumbling something, but I dismissed it as an alcohol induced hallucination, because the very next second he looked up and disarmed me with a smile, and damn, were those dimples?

I smiled back, because, hey, I was kinda drunk, the guy was cute, and who cared if he didn't answer my question? It was a rhetorical one anyway. Or, well, I _thought_ it was. I took another sip from my fourth (_fifth_?) bottle of beer, and frowned when it turned out to be empty. Jason pulled out another bottle, but I waved it away, shaking my head. "No, I think I should stop now. I won't be any help to Jackie if we're _both_ completely wasted."

"Jackie that girl with Klein's tongue in her mouth?"

I nodded and rolled my eyes as best as I could without succumbing to nausea. Jason chuckled when Jackie looked away from Hot Dude Klein for a second to send me a cheery wave and blow a kiss in my general direction. I waved back at her, and started picking at the pretzels again. Jason shot me one last smile, before drifting away to serve some new customers that had walked in. I watched as he poured out drinks and chatted easily with everybody. An unfaltering grin was spread across his face, except for the few times he'd glance back up at he television, as if to reassure himself that it was still flickering with testosterone-packed images of the basketball game. In those moments, there was a flash of wistfulness, and something that looked awfully like sadness.

* * *

Fifteen minutes into my impromptu game of Stare-At-The-Cute-Bartender, Jason walked through some door behind the bar, probably headed to a back room or something, and another bartender came up to replace him. I supposed that she was pretty, with her brown curls and her blue eyes. Her name-tag read as 'Amy', and she seemed good enough, but I sighed at the loss of my cute bartender friend.

I went back to tracing the swirls in the wood-grain, not even looking up when somebody collapsed into the stool next to mine. Amy bounced over and said, in a voice that was _way_ too chipper to be natural, "Hey there, I'm Amy. What can I get ya?"

There was a heavy pause, and then the deep voice that answered her was laced with uncertainty. "I'm not entirely sure what I am supposed to order. I have never been to an establishment like this before."

I looked up to see Amy standing there, her hands on her hips, a furrow between her brows. She looked appalled. "You mean to say that you've never been to a bar before?"

"I've never had the need to."

I turned, as surreptitiously as my drunkenness allowed, which meant I held all the grace of a blind octopus who'd been drugged to high heaven, to look at the guy sitting at my side. He was all dressed up in a suit, but he looked like he'd been dragged through a meat grinder a few hundred times. Not to say that he wasn't attractive, because honestly, I'd kiss that face, it was just that he looked like he'd taken on a semi truck and lost a couple dozen times over. His gray tie was askew and the matching blazer was rumpled, his dress shirt was wrinkled, his light brown hair all over the place, his green eyes red-rimmed and haunted. He looked exhausted, and even as he slouched in his seat, he somehow managed to look stiff and awkward.

He looked like a kicked puppy, and I saw the exact moment where Amy finally took it in, and her shocked demeanor changed to that of a woman cooing over a baby. "Oh, sweetie. What's your name hon?"

Another long silence, and when the man did answer, he sounded close to tears. I just barely managed to keep myself from hugging him. But that would be weird, and I was _totally not_ one of _those_ drunks. "I am Elidiah."

Weird name or not, Amy looked like she was three seconds short of squealing over how adorable he was, so I decided to save the poor guy from her. I cleared my throat. "Amy, how about you stop staring, and get the man a glass of whiskey. He looks like shit."

Amy flounced away, and when I looked back at him, Elidiah's eyes had widened a bit, and I smiled apologetically. "Sorry. You _do_ look like crap, and I don't really have a brain to mouth filter when I'm drunk. Jackie's always going on and on and _on_ about how much I ramble when I have too much to drink, but she's usually drinking more than I am, so what does she know, right? Oh, and my name's Valerie, in case you were wondering. You probably weren't, though. Gosh, Jacks is right. I _do_ ramble, don't I? _God_, I need to learn how to shut up, and here I am, _still talking_ I don't even-"

Elidiah cut me off mid-drunk-freakout by ever so _carefully_ putting a hand on my wrist and giving me a tentative smile. He looked _much_ nicer when he smiled. "Valerie. She was an angel. In charge of keeping records, I think. I did not know much about her."

I shrugged, not nearly drunk enough to get into specifics about the origins of my name, but I went with it anyway. Heck, I was just happy I hadn't scared the man off with my random-ass meltdown. "Yeah, I guess I do have an angel name. Yours is more angelic-y than mine, though."

(Was 'angelic-y' even a _word_? Whatever. Drunk people got free passes, even the ones that were supposed to be top-of-the-whole-freaking-class language majors.)

He sorta smiled at me, still looking very unsure, and that was followed by a few _very_ awkward moments of complete silence, Elidiah still watching me intently. Amy popped up again, a tall glass of whiskey in her hands, and she placed it in front of him before bouncing away again. Elidiah looked bewildered for a few seconds, and I sighed. I nudged him with my elbow. "Drink it. You'll feel better."

Eli (when did I start calling the dude Eli?) stared at me with those damn green eyes for a few more seconds before picking up the glass and downing the whole thing in one quick gulp. He flinched, probably from the burn of the alcohol, and when he turned back to me, he was swaying a bit. "That is… very potent. It wasn't quite so strong the last time…"

He trailed off, and even as I watched, tears formed in his eyes. I put a hand on his shoulder in what, I hope, came off as supportive. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

He just shook his head, looking absolutely devastated, and _that_ look made his inner kicked- puppy just _hog_ the damn spotlight. "I'm not sure. I'm just so _weak_ now. I used to be so strong, almost invincible. I was a leader, one of the highest command, and now? Now I'm just sitting in some strange bar, and I can't even consume a single glass of alcohol without _breaking_. I'm not strong anymore. I'm nothing."

Okay, _obviously_, drunk-me was _not_ the best communicator because all I could come up with to answer that was a slow blink and a _very_ confused, "What?"

"Have you ever fought a battle, Valerie? It isn't a pleasant experience."

I stared at him for a few moments, his words making absolutely no sense to me. Suddenly, something clicked within my booze-addled mind, and I could finally understand what he was saying. "Wait, you were a soldier? I- I didn't know."

He shook his head a bit, his lips twisting into a smile that look strangely stiff even as it was caustic, as if he was unfamiliar with bitterness. "I suppose it would be unreasonable to hope for you to know. It's probably better that way, anyway. Creatures like you shouldn't know about some things. We wouldn't want you to break, would we?"

Something about what he said sounded strange, but I was too far gone in a beer-induced haze to bother thinking about it too much. I touched the soft fingers he still had wrapped wound my wrist with my free hand, and he looked up from the dregs of the whiskey he had been staring at. I smiled. "You okay?"

He nodded, and somehow, even as he managed to look even more miserable, I couldn't bring myself to call him out on his lie. Amy slammed another drink down in front of him, and I watched as it too, suffered the same fate as the first one. All swallowed in one long desperate sip. Then another drink, and another, and maybe a few shots of something strong and then a beer or two, and he was still somehow conscious. Drunk as hell, but conscious. Softly crying, but conscious. Stumbling and lost, but conscious.

"You know," he said, and I listened, because I was still buzzed, Jackie somehow got bundled off into a cab and went home at some point, and he was interesting. "I used to be respected. Used to be powerful. Used to follow orders and lead well, and I fought so much, I killed so many of my brothers. _Killed them_. Why'd I kill them? Why? I could have disobeyed. I could have said no. It wasn't impossible. It had been done before. _He_ did it. _He_ disobeyed our superiors. Said that he'd do it his own way. Of course, everybody wanted him dead then, and he messed things up even more, but he did it."

He waved his arm in a wide sweeping motion, spilling some of the beer from his bottle, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I hated all the wars. Hated how I had to keep _killing_. Just because it had been ordered. Just because they wanted it. There're so many lives that ended because of me. So many fallen brothers. So much _fighting_. And the most brilliant part is, I didn't realize how bad it was until I was forced out of it. I didn't realize how much I wished I could stop, until I was thrown out. And now I'm weak, I'm lost, and getting drunk is still an effort."

I was totally smashed, and my empathy levels weren't at their finest, but damn if I didn't want to shed a few tears of my own at the man's words. "I'm sorry. I can't pretend like I can understand what that was like, but I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Eli's lips twitched into something that could maybe pass off as a smile, and he sounded much less dunk than he did five seconds before. "Thank you. I- I needed the company."

I frowned at his words. Didn't he have anyone? "Don't you have any family? Friends?"

He shook his head. "No. Well, I do have family, but I can't reach them anymore, I don't even know where they are. As for friends, I was under the impression that you were my friend. Or was I mistaken?"

I almost choked on my beer (and okay I wasn't supposed to drink anymore, but who really gives a shit?), and I spluttered incoherently for a few seconds before finally composing myself. "I don't- I mean, I… huh. I suppose we _are_ friends."

* * *

Five minutes later (or maybe it was a half hour later), I _may_ have possibly downed _another_ bottle of beer, and maybe I was a little too drunk to even keep myself upright, but it was okay, because Elidiah was holding me up with his shoulder, and I was blabbering on about something. It wasn't really all that important or anything, but Eli was listening with rapt attention, like I was revealing the secrets of the universe to him. I was in the process of explaining how anybody who hated Harry Potter was an idiot, when a hand landed on my shoulder. I turned to see a creepy-as-_hell_ grin aimed at me, accompanied by bloodshot brown eyes that were seriously unfocused. The man was swaying, and his breath stank of a dozen different kinds of alcohol. "Hey there, hotness. How about you let me buy you a drink?"

I jerked back, missing the way Eli had stiffened, and shook my head. "Thanks, but I think I'm good."

"C'mon doll, don't play hard to get. Just one drink."

Eli fixed the guy with one of his intense stares. "Sir, I believe that she already said that she isn't interested. Leave her alone."

The man chuckled and his grip on my shoulder tightened. "I wasn't talking to you, dumbass. So how about you take your gay shit and say it to someone who gives a damn. Me, I'm gonna have a drink with gorgeous here."

I scowled at him. "I told you already, I don't want one. Go hit on someone else, jerkwad."

The man looked more than a little bit pissed at that. "So, what? You just gonna sit here with this faggot wannabe soldier? Yeah, I heard what the pussy was whining about. I betchya that the bitch didn't even have the balls to raise a gun."

The hand was suddenly off my shoulder, and the asshole it belonged to was all the way on the other side of the room, sitting amongst the broken wood and glass of one of the tables. The man looked dazed, but furious, and when he wobbled to his feet, Elidiah literally _growled_, and stepped ahead of me. My mind finally caught up, and I realized that it was Elidiah who had thrown the drunken ass across the room. Huh.

Eli, for his own part, had a fearsome expression on his face, and any doubt I had of him not being a soldier was wiped away. His fingers twitched, almost like they were reaching for something that should have been there, but wasn't. One split second of disappointment flashed in his green eyes, before they hardened again, hatred and anger seeping out from him like heat waves. When he spoke, the words rumbled out amidst _snarls_. "Don't you ever even _suggest_ that. Do not _dare_. I've been fighting battles from before the _thought_ of you was even _conceived_. I have had to _murder_ my brothers, all for ignorant humans like you. So never say that my brothers' sacrifice, that _my_ sacrifice means nothing. Because if it wasn't for me, you would not even exist. So I suggest, that you show me some _respect_."

The asshole, drunk-to-his-eyeballs as he may have been, sure heard the underlying threat in Eli's words, because his jaw twitched, and something like fear shone through his bravado. He lurched forward, staggering, and the gathered crowd parted in his wake. He spat out his words like they were poison droplets resting on his tongue. "I'm not going to respect some faggot just because he's got a fucking god-complex."

"Do _not_ take the Lord's name in vain."

"Yeah? Well what are you gonna do about it, cunt?"

The idiot loomed over Eli, and Elidiah looked him straight in the eye, fury rolling off of him. Then, in a flurry of movement that felt like a lifetime but was probably over in half a second, Eli had the guy pinned under him, the asshole's arm twisted to an unnatural and definitely painful angle. I would have cringed in pity, but honestly, the dude deserved it. Freaking _asshat._ The guy was moaning, almost definitely shedding a few tears, and he kept up a repetitive litany of _I'msorry I'msorry I'msorry I'msorry I'msorry._

Eli slowly stood up, releasing his death grip on the man, and I swear that for a moment, a gleam of something pure and righteous shone in his eyes. A gasp from behind me had Elidiah turning to look past me. I turned to see Jason standing there, a box in his hands, shock written clearly across his face. "Elidiah." he said, his face pale in the dim bar lights.

I took a step forward, but something was wrong. The floor felt unsteady beneath my feet, like a ship at sea, and everything faded out to a low garble of sounds. My vision blurred, first just around the edges, but soon darkness enveloped me, and the last thing I could hear was Eli's worried voice. "Jassoniel, help her."

I had always wondered what it felt like, to collapse in the arms of someone you trust.

* * *

Static was roaring in my ears, and I floundered in the darkness.

As I clawed my way back to consciousness, I could hear a pair of voices near me, and I concentrated on them, hoping to ground myself.

"I thought you were dead, eons ago."

"I wouldn't make it that easy for Naomi. I ran."

A rustle that sounded like cloth sliding over cloth. "But her soldiers, they're powerful. Even Castiel-"

"Castiel escaped her grasp."

"He- Did you help him?"

A sigh. "No. Castiel's escape was different to mine. He overcame it. I fell."

"You- you fell?"

"I had no other choice. Raphael was acting strange, Michael was Father-knows-where, I had nowhere to hide."

"So you ripped it out? Jassoniel…"

"Tell me, brother, is it not freeing? Is it not beautiful? To be able to _feel_, to be able to _choose_? It's beautiful. _They're_ beautiful. _This _is what humanity is. _This_ is what we were made to protect. And _this_ is what I chose. To live with the humans, to have free will. It's a better fate than what Naomi had in store for me."

"Is it… good? This life?"

"It is, little one. It's a good life."

"Falling _hurt_. It hurts to have to breathe, to sleep. I'm scared that this life will hurt too."

"I know that you're scared, Elidiah. All our brothers and sisters are. I was too. It's different, strange. But it doesn't hurt. I promise you, it doesn't. Not like the Wars did. This hurt is better, purer."

"Jassoniel?"

"Yes?"

"Is Valerie going to be alright?"

"She'll be fine. Just drank too much and had a bit too much excitement for one evening. She'll wake up soon."

"Will she remember any of this?"

Another sigh, softer this time. "I don't think so. Alcohol tends to make people forget a lot. I wouldn't want her to remember, anyway."

"Why not?"

"She stopped believing in angels, Elidiah."

"Why would she-?"

"We left one too many prayers unanswered."

* * *

I retched over the porcelain bowl, and Jackie rubbed my back supportively. I groaned at the smell of puke, and she chuckled. "You're such a lightweight Val. Why'd you have to drink so much last night? You _know_ you have seriously messed up hangovers."

I just threw up a bit more before panting out an answer. "Just because _you_ somehow _never_ get hangovers. S'not fair, you drank _so _much more than I did last night. Friggin' witchcraft, is what it is."

"Well yeah, kinda got ditched by my fiancé and all. And I _do_ know my limits. You on the other hand… you threw up as soon as you walked into the apartment."

I moaned at the memory. "Oh God, don't remind me."

"What even _happened _last night?"

"You were _there_, Jackie."

"Yeah, but I left before you _really_ got wasted. So, spill. What happened?"

I shook my head, only succeeding in aggravating that damn headache. "I don't even know. There was something with that bartender, and then some other guy. Eli… something."

Jackie whistled. "Well now, _two_ guys? Not bad Val, I didn't know you had it in you."

I glared at her. "It wasn't like that."

Jackie just laughed and left some aspirin next to me, laughing louder when I flipped the bird at her.

I threw up some more.

Jackie must have turned the television on, because obnoxiously loud music was blaring from the depths of the apartment.

"I hate you!" I yelled.

"I know!" she tossed back.

Oh God, I needed new friends.

There was that stuck-up news anchor's voice again, still droning on about the 'widespread panic concerning what the government is calling a freak meteor shower'.

And this time, instead of the usual surge of skepticism and rationale, a single word echoed in my aching head.

_Angels._

* * *

**A/N This is weird. I love it anyway. I also love what's coming up next. Let me know what you thought in a review! Thanks for reading! :) **_~Sammy_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Yay! Second chapter! It's awesome and I love ****_Vendelareader_****for convincing me to continue. You're a star, hon. Enjoy! :)** ~_Sammy_

* * *

_**Nothing, save the ash on your mantle**_

_Chapter two_

Snowflakes tumbled down from a gray sky in clumps that were exquisitely shaped but would have looked random and unimportant to the humans, scurrying away all bundled up in their thick bright coats and strange woolen hats that stretched over the tips of their ears, presumably looking to escape the biting cold of an evening that was slowly growing colder.

He watched the large crowds huddle together, reminded of that strange show on the television he had been watching, once, that had shown penguins tucking their forms into each others' in an attempt to stay warm; and he wondered if perhaps humans _were,_ in fact, just as primitive as the animals they so prided themselves in being superior to. After all, it seemed as though, even wrapped up within their many layers of protective clothing, there were people walking quickly but carefully on ice-slicked streets, with their gloved hands joined together and their wool-covered heads touching as misted breaths mixed together over their small smiles and soft laughs. Finding warmth in their flock, just like the penguins.

Some people passing by him gave him strange looks when he repeated his discovery aloud, testing how the words sounded on his tongue, and the looks of disapproval and slight disgust made him wonder if maybe he was wrong. Maybe the act of grouping together in the cold was not a basic animalistic attempt at staying warm.

Maybe it was another idiosyncrasy of humanity.

There were quite a few of those, he had discovered, and he found himself struggling to make sense of most of them. Humans seemed to be fond of riddles. Not the normal ones- he had once held a conversation with a Sphinx for a full three years before she had grown tired and stalked off to find a new victim- no, human riddles were simpler, and infinitely more complex in the way they said one thing and meant another, as though their language was so limited, they had no choice but to layer every word with all the depth of an unexplored ocean.

It was only natural, then, that humans found solace in the speaking of riddles; for that appeared to be the very basis of humanity, he observed- intricacy in the face of the most elementary of things.

He tore his gaze away from the swarms of people milling about in front of decorated glass storefronts that sparkled as the glow from innumerable strings of lights- so many, it seemed excessive- shone through the frosted glass and cast strange shadows on the snow and the people walking past them; and he tilted his head back to look at the vast expanse of ash-like clouds that passed as the winter sky.

Snow continued to fall, he could feel the flecks of ice swirl around the collar of his shirt and he didn't flinch when a few slipped underneath the cloth, barely feeling the sting of cold on his skin. A few crystals caught in his eyelashes, and he blinked away the sudden blurriness that filled his vision, frowning a bit as _more _slivers of snow entangled themselves in his lashes.

"It doesn't matter how much you blink at it, the snow's not gonna stop falling." The voice startled him, and he blinked again, this time in surprise. He turned around, half expecting to see another person giving him a look that was a mixture of pity and mockery- he had received many of those recently, and he was getting better at identifying them.

He hadn't, however, expected to see a look of understanding soften the features of the woman standing there. She smiled at him, and she didn't seem even the slightest bit fazed by his bewilderment. Rather, her smile grew wider, her blue eyes brightened by a spark of the christmas lights reflecting off the snow. Her teeth were straight and white against her slightly chapped lips, and her red tinged cheeks lifted with her smile in a way that was absolutely mesmerizing.

He found himself staring at the way she was bundled up in a bright purple coat and a red scarf in a style that was so inherently _human_, he wondered if, even after spending a few decades more on earth, he would ever manage to dress himself up in clothes that felt _right_.

"Hello there, stranger."

Her voice was soft, almost lost within the flurries of snow that danced around her misted breath, but she spoke surely, as though she knew he would hear. She pulled her coat, a thick swathe of wool in an unnatural shade of violet, closer around her as a particularly strong gust of wind twisted the snow into even more complex swirls and her long black hair whipped around her flushed face.

He silently held her gaze, and when she sighed, he wondered if he did something wrong.

"Y'know," she said, "when someone says hi, you usually say hi back."

He blinked at her, not to dislodge the snowflakes that had once again found a place on his lashes, but in surprise. It was a strange reaction, and he found himself pondering the importance of it even as he spoke, "You said hello."

Her eyes widened the slightest bit, and she exhaled in one sharp breath before she covered her upturned lips with a gloved hand even as her shoulders shook, and he stared at her, slightly concerned, before he realized she was laughing. He frowned at her, hoping she would tell him what she found so amusing, but that seemed to only result in her laughter increasing.

"It's- It's the same thing."

"How can they be the same? The connotations are similar, but they have different structures and syllable-"

She took a step forward and held a hand up, silencing him. She was still smiling, but the smile looked fond, now. "Okay, this is harder than I thought it would be."

"What-"

Her gaze sharpened, and he pressed his lips together on some instinct that seemed to be buried somewhere deep within him. "Just shut up and listen, idiot. Hi and hello are the same thing, yeah? They're greetings. When someone greets you, you greet them back. I say hi, you say hi. Get it?"

He wasn't too sure he had, but he nodded anyway. "I think so."

The stiffness faded bit from her shoulders then, and she smiled again. "Alright then. Let's try it out again, then. Hi."

She held her hand out, and he stared at it, watching as two hexagonal snowflakes landed on the black polyester covering her thumb. She made a strange clicking noise, and twitched her fingers, almost impatiently. He slowly, unsurely, stretched his hand forward, matching her posture, and this time her smile was genuine. She wrapped her covered fingers around his bare ones, and it was only after the warmth of her hand reached his, that he realized how his skin had stung from the frost settling on it.

An unbidden 'hello' tumbled from his lips. "I believe," he continued, "that introductions follow mutual greetings."

Her lips curved upwards, and a short laugh escaped her in one short breath. He wondered why that made his lips quirk up of their own accord. "Look at you, learning already. Guess I don't really need to give you the basics on Humanity, huh?"

He pulled his hand out of hers in a movement so quick he doubted she could track it, and his shoulders pulled up and tensed. His Grace pooled into his hand, and his blade manifested, cool and sturdy. The woman's eyes widened again, but this time it seemed to be a reaction caused by fear. Good. The human _should_ fear him, after all. She stepped forward, and stretched a hand out, palm facing out towards him. "Look," she began, "You need to calm down. I can explain-"

"You know." He wasn't sure where the words came from, but they felt right. "You know what I am."

She tilted her head back, and closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them and nodding. He didn't lower his blade. She exhaled, slowly, but loud enough to break through the heavy silence that had fallen between them like the snow that had begun to tumble down in larger clumps of ice and frost. "_Yes_, okay? Yes. I know what you are, feathers. Congratulations, you're right. Pass go and collect two hundred dollars, why don't ya?"

She was being infuriatingly patronizing, and that fact that he could identify that at all, was a matter he needed to ponder at some point, but for now, he simply raised his blade a bit, and ignored the way her teasing made him want to frown and demand an explanation to yet _another_ human riddle. There were more important matters at hand, after all. "What do you want?"

"I wanna help you." He couldn't find it within himself to trust the way her lips twitched and her hand wavered. He doubted her soft smile, just as he doubted the words she spoke. Doubt was the only fault he allowed himself, and that fault was what had prevented his existence from obliteration- or worse, his memories from destruction.

"Who sent you?"

"What? Nobody _sent_ me, I'm-"

"Was it Bartholomew? Or did Malachi also decide to take an interest in me?"

"I'm not one of you, I'm _human, _dumbass. I know you can see that."

He _could_ see that. He could see the way her soul flared up with every impassioned word, could hear the way her breath caught and her heartbeat sped up as she raised her hands in a what resembled a quick upward flap of wings and dropped them just as fast, her hands brushing against her coat with a soft yet ever so loud swish. He could see just _how much_ of a human she was. He didn't trust her humanity. "Humans work with them as well. Simply having a human soul doesn't reassure me of anything."

"Oh for the love of- I've got enough of you yapping on about how _beautiful_ and how _pure_ my stupid, precious _human_ soul is. For god's sake, you can _trust_ me."

"I'm not entirely sure that I can."

He could see the confusion clear from her eyes, and suddenly the blue of her irises were blazing, and she stalked forward, almost like a predator cornering its prey. He contemplated, briefly, how strangely amusing the word _prey_ was, because only now did he understand how it could often be misinterpreted as _pray_. The woman's gaze was scorching hot, and he was falling again because he was _burning,_ and he was the prey, praying for relief. The woman smiled.

The snow crunched under her shoes as she stepped close enough for him to see the curve of her eyelashes brushing against crimson cheeks when she blinked. Her fingers caught in the folds of his shirt, the stiff white cloth giving way and crumpling beneath her grip. She leaned forward, and he could count the snowflakes that had caught in her dark lashes. There were twenty nine. Her breath warm warm against his ear when she whispered, "OLANI OAI OLLOR ZORGE" _I am a friend._

She pulled away, her covered fingers brushing over the back of his hand. Enochian tumbled desperately from her lips, as though she knew no other language. "OLANI GOHO OIAD LAIAD" _I'm not lying._

He folded his hand over hers. "I know."

She inhaled one sharp breath that matched the sound of his blade being sheathed. "You believe me?"

"I do," he said, his fingers pressing over her wrist, where her heartbeat fluttered against his skin. "Although, I do have questions."

"Yeah, I know you do. And I'll answer them, as long as you come with me. I've got a late christmas present I need to give a friend."

"Of course."

She smiled again, and the skin at the corners of her eyes folded into creases that looked young and ancient at the same time. "You were right, by the way. We _do_ do introductions now."

He dipped his head to watch as she smoothed down the rumples in his shirt with her free hand. "I'm Valerie."

"I am Adinisel."

"_Adinisel._ Huh. It's cute. I like it."

He looked back up to see her nod her head unconsciously, the tiniest of movements, almost imperceptible. He watched the spark in her eyes dance and shimmer as she nodded, and something within him warmed. Warmed until it felt like a fire, blazing ever fiercer when her smile widened. Not the warmth that was found in the sharing of body heat in the face of biting winds; but the warmth that felt like wings wrapping around him, soft and sharp, like his armor and his sword. Like battle-cries and the folds of safety.

Her hand tightened around his, one soft squeeze of her fingers, and he squeezed back, wondering if _this_ was the purpose behind the penguin-like huddling.

Adinisel wondered if being earth-bound was worth the warmth.

* * *

**A/N Do you like it? Do you not like it? Are my OCs exactly what you expected or are you tumbling down into a vortex of disappointment as you read this? Let me know what you thought in a review! There's ****_way_**** more to come! :)** _~Sammy_


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